


Gun Kink

by mnemosyne23



Series: Dombilie - Secrets and Spies 'Verse [1]
Category: Lost RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M, Mild NC-17, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-12
Updated: 2005-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosyne23/pseuds/mnemosyne23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet from the <a href="http://teffy.livejournal.com/253988.html"><i>Secrets and Spies</i></a> universe.  Emilie wonders why Dom names his guns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun Kink

"I call this one Gunther," Dom said from the overstuffed armchair by the window, reverently running the cloth over the gleaming surface of his 9mm. "He packs a whollop."

Emilie was on her stomach on the bed, watching him one by one polish his guns. He had an impressive array laid out on the windowseat. "Why do you name them?" she asked, hooking her ankles in the air behind her. It was an oddly girlish gesture, not something she would normally do; Dom brought out these frivolous tendencies in her, because he liked it when she played coy.

Dom chuckled. "Because everything deserves a name, luv," he told her, sighting down the barrel of the pistol before setting it aside and picking up a long, gleaming sniper rifle. "Especially something with as much personality as a gun."

"They're just things, Dom. They don't have a personality."

"Course they do. Sooner you learn that, sweet, the better. Look at this one here." He raised the rifle, planting it in his lap; she'd given it to him for his last birthday, and her loins still ached thinking about how happy he'd been that night. "Sleek, sophisticated, and utterly deadly. It's a thing of beauty, but it'll kill you in a heartbeat if you use it wrongly." He ran the cloth down the length of the barrel, in such a blatantly sexual manner that Emilie's hips rolled sympathetically against the comforter.

"Tell me you don't look at this rifle and love it," he murmured, gazing up the barrel, eyes faraway and dreamy.

Emilie gazed at the rifle. She was a gun enthusiast -- the arsenal in her basement was the stuff of legend. But she'd never thought of them as anything but tools; efficient, sophisticated, violent tools. Gazing at the gun nestled in Dom's lap, watching him stroke down the barrel as though it were a lover, she found she was changing her opinion, just as she so often did when listening to Dom. The rifle suddenly seemed less cold and more personal; she could almost see it arching into his touch.

"What do you call that one?" she whispered huskily.

His eyes came down from gazing at the point of the barrel and he gave her a soft smile. "Emilie, of course," he murmured, in that delightfully gravelly voice that always stirred heat deep in her belly. "Anything else would be unworthy."

She moaned, feeling her eyes go three shades darker as her pupils dilated. Moving like a cat, she crawled off the bed and sauntered across the brief space between the bed and his chair. Straddling his lap, she sank down slowly onto his thighs.

"That is the sexiest thing I've ever heard," she whispered against his lips, draping her arms around his shoulders. "Emilie" was pressed between them, and Emilie felt the rifle's barrel rub across her breasts; she shivered.

"It's true," he murmured against her mouth as she nibbled his lips and ran her tongue lightly across his lower lip.

"Mmm…" Wrapping her fingers around the rifle just below his hand, she tugged gently until he let go. Sitting back, she locked eyes with him as she brought the gun to her lips and laid a long, cherry-red kiss on the barrel.

Dom's eyes turned feral. "Girl/girl action," he said huskily. "Every man's dream."

Emilie grinned against the rifle and slowly pulled it away from her lips. "That was just the warm-up," she purred, laying "Emilie" gently aside before wrapping her arms around his neck once more. "Do you want to know what my encore entails?"

"If you say you're going to fuck one of my guns, Emilie, I'm going to die right here."

Emilie laughed against his mouth. "Sorry, Dommie. Not tonight." Nuzzling his lips, she kissed along his jaw and down his neck, slowly sliding out of his lap until she was kneeling in front of him. Her hands pushed up his t-shirt so she could continue her rain of kisses down his torso. She felt his hand in her hair, rubbing her scalp tenderly, and she moaned softly.

"I name things, too," she whispered against his stomach, dipping her tongue into his navel.

Dom groaned softly. "Yeah?" he asked hoarsely. "Like what?"

Emilie looked up his body with a devilish grin. "Do you need to ask?" she teased as her fingers tugged at his fly.

He arched an eyebrow, eyes hot. "And what do you call it, may I ask? Something dirty, bad girl?"

"Never. I don't kiss dirty things." He lifted his hips willingly and she yanked down his trousers until they gathered around his ankles. With a quiet sigh, she nuzzled his cock, enjoying his sharp gasp of pleasure.

"Then what?" he asked breathlessly as she cradled him in her hand and dropped gentle kisses down his length.

She looked up at him through her lashes. "Beretta," she purred, her lips tickling his tip and making him gasp. "Because I fucking love guns."

And she sank her mouth down over him with a moan.

 

**THE END**


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